


Not All That Glitters is Gold

by macabreverbosity



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curses, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exiled Prince!Kylo, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Hux-centric, King!Hux, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Midas' Curse, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabreverbosity/pseuds/macabreverbosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux did not have many regrets. His life had been lived up until the present moment with very little need of anything that resembled regret. However this gift of his he did regret—regretted it dearly and intimately</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All That Glitters is Gold

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the Greek Myth of King Midas

Hux did not have many regrets. His life had been lived up until the present moment with very little need of anything that resembled regret. However this _gift_ of his he did regret—regretted it dearly and intimately.  

His Majesty, King Alain Hux IV, the esteemed ruler of Onderon, had been cursed from a very young age. Hux was the first son of Brendol II and Geneviève Hux and as such, Hux had been groomed for royalty from birth. The young Hux had been tutored in all things proper; had been given lessons in Military and Tactical planning as well as History and the Modern and Ancient Languages—all of which he excelled at. Alain Hux refused to be anything less than perfect. 

He had spent many of his nights perched by his window, reading and admiring the stars, imagining what it would be like to hold one in his hands—feel the burning, glowing entity between his fingertips. He drew stars often in his journal; he drew a great many things as well on the smooth blank papers that very few people used any longer—plans and dreams for the future. He was merely a boy of eleven but he knew; he knew very well that he would be brilliant, that no other would be like him.

He had not anticipated the accuracy of his assumption at that time. 

Hux Sr. did not believe in magic. He dismissed it quite readily at every turn, always eager to implement his particular dose of pragmatism onto every situation. The younger Hux had been more wary, always vigilant. He was never too quick to dismiss things he could not comprehend. He was cognizant that the most dangerous thing in the known worlds was ignorance. Knowledge was power and Hux was determined to wield as much as he feasibly could.

Unfortunately for the younger Hux, his father had not had the forethought. During the Clone Wars, an attack to overthrow the monarchy had been attempted by off planet rebel forces. Hux, being next in line for the throne had studied the Clone Wars extensively, as it pertained to his future kingdom and he had stumbled upon the fable; The Myth of The Golden Touch.

The text had said that the heir to the throne of Onderon during a time of unusual peace would usher in an era of unprecedented prosperity; however, like most things this came with a price. Due to a deal King Brendol I had made during the Clone Wars with a powerful Sith of Moraband to stymie the rising rebellion. As a result, the heir during the time of peace would be given the Golden Touch. It was given as a fail-safe for the heir's hubris, for it was foretold that the heir would be as radiant as the setting suns of Tatooine and as proud as the warriors of Mandalore. He would be lonely and peerless like the stars.

The Golden Touch was viewed, at first, as an old wives tale, nothing to be concerned with; especially with the rising popularity of the monarchy once more with the people of Onderon. In fact, the myth had passed out of popular folklore many years before Hux's birth and the Royal family were unconcerned with such trite machinations when there were political treatises and trade agreements to oversee.

Everything had been going according to plan until Hux's twelfth birthday had uncovered the truth of what was set into motion all those years ago by one foolish king's whimsy. 

It was the spring time, the fourteenth day of the fifth cycle of Orgoth-V. The day was one of joy, it was the Prince's birthday, there was to be a parade in his honor as well as a private family function to be preceded by a lavish ball. 

Hux found balls to be tedious even as a child he had no patience for people's inane chatter, he realized that much of politics depended on the ability to speak and speak well but it did not mean that he had to like it. There were parts of being the heir to the throne that Hux found distasteful. He'd been dressed in the finest of clothes—hand sewn specially for the occasion, they were lush robes, a deep navy blue with billowing fabric at the sleeves. He had been told the color complemented his complexion, Hux thought it made him look sickly—the dark circles around his green eyes from lack of sleep made all the more pronounced. 

Hux met Ren at the ball in honor of his twelfth birthday and that had been the only good memory of that day.

Ren had come with his parents as many other children had; Hux had very little interest in the triflings of children but Ren had been fascinating. Much like Hux he didn't appear to want to be there, neither did he appear inclined to enjoy himself. The boy seemed to shrink into his mother’s side and Hux found that he recognized her. He'd read about her in his books, Leia Organa-Solo, she was the daughter of Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi knight and Padmé Amidala, the Queen of Naboo. Hux knew all the important political figures from watching holovids of Senate debates, it was part of his education, after all. 

Ren had seemed like an exceptionally clumsy and shy child and Hux had found himself inching closer and closer towards him as the night went on; his eyes never straying for very long from the smaller boy with a halo of dark brown curls around an elven freckled face. By the time the people had settled into a more leisurely pace, Hux was right beside Ren and he took the opportunity to properly peruse. Ren seemed to be an unusual mix of features that as a whole seemed to work quite well, Hux found that he liked Ren's face, it was a pleasing countenance. Ren had looked at him as though startled, wide brown eyes that blinked up at Hux in surprise and he found himself unable to look away, the silence stretching for a long moment. It was an unusual thing, Hux usually had a sharp tongue that he wielded precisely and without mercy but in this instance he found himself almost bashful. Just as Hux had gathered the courage to speak a sharp call of what sounded like 'Ren!' had the boy scurrying off into the crowd. 

The ball had ended shortly thereafter and his family—himself, his mother and father—had sat down to a more private function. A small cake had been prepared—Hux's favorite, red velvet—and gifts had been given. Just as Hux was about to cut the cake he felt a peculiar sort of vertigo take him over, almost knocking him to his knees.

When he regained balance and looked down at the knife in his hand he found it glittering a brilliant gold and he let it drop to the floor as though it were a poisonous snake. Hux looked up at his parents, trembling—bottom lip quivering and tears threatening to spill from his eyes. What had happened? The knife had not been gold before, he was sure of it, he'd seen it.

Hux tentatively extended a finger towards the cake and with one touch it had turned to solid gold. It was true, the Golden Touch was real. 

The palace had been thrown into an uproar, preparations needed to be made, secrecy was of the utmost importance. No one was to know of the young Prince's malady. Hux had been fitted with special gloves that did not turn to gold, they were a special black leather that allowed him some autonomy. Hux continued to do what he was born to do, he learned and he grew and 10 years later, upon him parents' death he ascended the throne of Onderon. 

No, Hux did not have many regrets, not until the Exiled Prince of Alderaan and Naboo, Kylo Ren had shown himself at Hux court and requested asylum.

Hux had granted the request almost without question, on the condition that Kylo remained in the palace for however long it was he planned to stay. It was not completely selfish of Hux to want to keep Kylo where he could see him; Hux needed to keep his court under his control; nevermind that it was a pleasure to watch the force sensitive man go about his daily tasks.

Kylo Ren was a vision in black and Hux wished for the first time in a very long time that he were able to touch another person. He could imagine running his hands over Kylo’s back, nails scraping over ripples of muscle. Could imagine his hands rubbing down Kylo's chest and lower still. Hux for the first time wanted something he could not have. Was this what the text had meant by the curse? To be a fail-safe against the heir's hubris, this was certainly humbling but Hux refused to be cowed.

Kylo Ren was volatile and as sharp as a knife. He had obviously been trained in much the same way Hux had been; however, he seemed to lack the refinement that had been a characteristic of Hux's upbringing. Kylo was all rough edges and brash action where Hux was careful and smooth calculation. They argued over everything from politics to what dishes would be ordered for dinner that evening. 

Hux still remembers the taste the first time they'd kissed, still remembers the first time they had touched with any sort of intent. The first time they had made love. Hux still regretted not being able to run his hands over Kylo’s body, the denied physical contact becoming an obsession of both parties. 

Hux had not told Kylo about the curse, frankly, he was afraid his honesty would scare the larger man away, it was not every day you came across a man who could turn people and objects into gold with just a single touch; even in a galaxy full of a myriad of life forms, it was still considered odd...unnatural. 

So, Hux had found himself in their shared rooms one evening, sitting on the edge of their bed—the bed that just hours before had contained their sweating tangled bodies moving tandem—and  waited for Kylo to step through the door; hoping it would be soon lest he lose his nerve. 

Several minutes had passed before Kylo poked his head questioningly into the room, Hux always knew that Kylo would come looking for him once he had taken care of his own meditation. Kylo’s hair was pulled back into a bun at the base of his skull, wispy hairs clinging to his neck and temples.

Hux motions for him to take a seat beside him on the bed and takes the larger man's hand in his own, playing with the fingers nervously. 

"Hux?" Kylo asked; "...Alain?" He adds when Hux merely stares at him silently.

"I wanted to tell you something." Hux swallows. "Or rather show you, would be the proper word in this case." Hux added almost hysterically.

Kylo squeezes Hux's hand reassuringly and nods once. Hux disentangles their hands and removes the glove from one of them resting the hand on his thigh for a moment as he tries to regain his composure, his heart hammering in his chest. Hux recoils away abruptly standing when Kylo's hand moves to take his now glove-less hand. 

"You need to see, you cannot do that. You musn’t," he admonishes, "It is not as though I do not want you to." He reassures as he catches the flash of hurt in Kylo’s eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, Hux moves to the dresser and retrieves a comb, holding it up in his hand before Kylo as it begins to turn golden. Kylo merely gaps.

"Do you see, now? Do you understand?" Hux pleads, willing Kylo to understand; however, wishing in equal measures that the revelation of Hux's secret would not scare the younger man away. 

Kylo stands and moves towards Hux carefully keeping his bare hand away from any accidental touches and taking Hux into his arms.

"This changes nothing, you must know that." Kylo whispers into Hux’s hair.

"I had wondered...you realize I can never touch you skin to skin. It will always have to be through these gloves." Hux says morosely.

"I am aware. It's a small price to pay." Kylo smirks at Hux as he continues; "You cannot think getting rid of me would be that easy, _your Majesty_."

Hux snorts, "No, Gods forbid you do the rational thing for once in your life."

"Where would the fun lay in being reasonable?” Kylo chuckles, tightening his arms around Hux and looking him in the eyes, "I love you, Alain Hux. Curse or no."

Hux's eyes are suspiciously stinging as he leans up to kiss Kylo. 

"I love you, too, you insolent child." Hux whispers against Kylo's lips.

"Way to ruin a touching moment, my love." Kylo says and buries his face in the crook of Hux's neck.

Hux laughs and thinks about his regrets, they still stood but perhaps they would be borne more amiably now with the company he desired rather than the one forced onto him. 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr [here](murderdollls.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
